


Paint Your Heart On Your Sleeve

by VoidGlasses



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Art AU, M/M, More tags to be added, YOIShitBang2017, art college au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-22 01:36:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11956953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VoidGlasses/pseuds/VoidGlasses
Summary: Victor Nikiforov is a very skilled painter. His water color works have moved people to tears. However, after taking a few years before enrolling and years of living alone, Victor finds himself losing passion for his work and considering dropping out.Yuuri Katsuki is a flourishing dance student. In his third year of college, Yuuri is regarded as one of the best dancers to grace the studio. One evening, after staying late to get in extra practice, Yuuri finds himself literally running into THE Victor Nikiforov.Now they find themselves gravitating towards each other more each time they meet.





	1. CHAPTER 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is! I'm so excited to have had the opportunity to participate in this event. Thank you so much to everyone who helped with the editing and idea process. Also look out for the amazing art [shortprints](https://shortprints.tumblr.com/) made for chapter 3!

Victor Nikiforov had been standing, champagne glass in hand, in front of a beautifully done watercolor piece in the student fall exhibit. Perhaps standing is the wrong term. Victor Nikiforov was  _ hunching _ in front of a beautifully done watercolor piece, closely inspecting it. His eyes roamed over the work, noting the way the colors blended together to capture the movement of leaves falling off a tree as it prepared for winter. Victor had been so focus on critiquing every minute detail that he didn’t notice the faculty member approaching from Victor’s right. The man was dressed as one would assume a collegiate professor would be: black dress slacks, a white button up shirt, and a questionable blazer on top. 

“I see you’ve got a good eye for art.” As startled as Victor was by the surprise guest at his side, he couldn’t help but laugh at the awful joke. It had started last semester when a first year student naively mentioned a third year student’s “good eye for art”. After that the phrase became somewhat of a meme within the arts program. Eventually both students and teachers began to use the phrase with one another. He recognized the professor; he taught an art history class that Victor had taken back in his first year.

“Mr. Celestino, nice to see you. Enjoying the exhibit so far?” 

“Oh, yes. I like to see what the students find inspiration in each season.” Mr. Celestino motioned to the piece Victor had been previously scrutinizing. “Like this piece, the student really captured the autumn winds. Tell me, what do you derive from this work?” 

Victor smirked as he turned back to the painting. “Well, the artist certainly focused on capturing the movement of the moment rather than focusing on the moment itself. The way the colors blend, rather than meet at lines in many points, suggests that they wanted to capture the fluidity of life, even in something as rigid as the tree. It’s truly a stunning piece.” Victor made a slight turn toward the professor to meet his now sharp gaze with the most innocent smile Victor could bare.

“Quite a bold statement,” Celestino paused, trying to chose words that would adequately challenge Victor’s perception of the work. “But how can you be so sure of the artist's intentions? I agree that it is well done, but perhaps the message is of loss of control and the fragility of any moment.”

Victor hummed, this always happened at student galleries. “I feel you may have underestimated my critique. Do me a favor, professor, and check the name of the artist?”

The older man leaned in towards the watercolor, scanning it for the signature. Upon finding it, he turned back to Victor with a laugh; the painting was signed by none other than “V. Nikiforov”. 

“Ah, Victor Nikiforov, it’s good to see you again. I didn’t recognize you without the long hair you had back in your first year, was it?”

“You are correct. I had it cut the summer after my first year.” Victor gave his hair a small fluff with his free hand to further highlight the change. He then gestured to the nearby watercolor paintings in the room. “Welcome to my exhibit, Mr. Celestino. Please excuse me, I’d love to continue discussing the pieces, but I should get going, it’s rather late and I do have class in the morning. ” 

Victor set his still full glass on a nearby table. He waved curtly and exited the building with a confident stride. Once outside, Victor pulled out his phone and dialed his younger cousin, Yuri, or to him Yurio, to ask him to pick up the art pieces in the morning. His cousin was a third year highschool student, but because he had taken some course work at the college, Yurio had a campus ID and could access the gallery. Victor hoped Yurio was still awake, though it didn’t much matter; he could leave a message if his cousin didn’t answer. Victor held the phone to his ear, anticipating the crass greeting his cousin frequently spit out. 

“Ugh, old man, do you know what time it is? What do you want now?”

“Yuuu-rio! Could you do me a favor pretty please?” Victor pleaded.

“I told you I hate that nickname!”

“Aww Yuri, please, I have an early morning class tomorrow. Could you pretty please pick up my portfolio from the gallery? I’ll take you to lunch for the next week.” Victor knew how much Yurio hated cafeteria food and how much he loved spending Victor’s money. They quipped back and forth as Victor walked, Victor teasing and Yurio half heartedly yelling at him each time. Victor had become so distracted with his call that he didn’t notice a slightly younger man shuffling in his backpack.

* * *

Yuuri was absolutely exhausted. He had been at the dance studio for the better part of the evening trying to clear his head and organize his thoughts. As much as the workout strained his body, being able to practice alone really helped calm his anxiety. Yuuri grabbed his bag, taking a long sip of water, before walking over to the spiral staircase that led to the studio lobby and a small changing room. He waved to Minami,  the first year student who was working the desk that night.

“Hi Yuuri! That was a long practice...I bet that means your recital will be amazing!” The eighteen-year-old pulled his hands up to his chest, nearly shaking with excitement just thinking about the upcoming show. 

Yuuri blushed; he wasn’t really a fan of fans, especially the excited ones on campus. He knew his name was going around on campus after his last performance, but he’d much rather avoid being in the spotlight off stage. Regardless, he said a polite thank you before ducking into the changing room. Usually he would pull on some sweats and a hoodie before walking back to his apartment, but today he had a nicer option: fitted jeans, dress shoes, and a blue button up. His roommate, Phichit, had asked him to come see the fall arts exhibition before heading home. Phichit had a small photography display in the exhibition this semester, and Yuuri would feel bad for skipping regardless of how tired he felt. 

He stuffed his dance clothes in his backpack and ducked out the front door of the lobby. He was grateful that Minami was more occupied watching videos on his phone than he was paying attention to the front door so he wouldn’t have to chat any longer. He was already running late and knew Phichit had been waiting all evening, and it didn’t help that he was freezing from the evening winds. Yuuri slipped the strap off his right arm to gain better access to the backpack. He was sure he put a scarf in here somewhere but where?

* * *

“Oh! I’m so sorry, are you alright?” Victor reached out his hands to help steady the stranger. He had been so distracted talking to Yurio that he walked right into the man digging in his backpack, causing him to drop it, and his scarf, to the ground. Once the man seemed to have control of his balance again, Victor withdrew his hands, stuffing them into his coat pockets. The night winds were picking up and Victor hadn’t brought his gloves with him. 

Victor noticed the stranger shivering as he straightened his glasses and attempted to regain his composure. Victor reached down on a spontaneous whim, picked up the man’s scarf, and placed it on the back of the man’s neck and looped the ends around the front.

“Oh, thank you,” the younger man mumbled. “I’m Yuuri, by the way. I'm a third year student here.” Yuuri glanced down at his feet then back up, cheeks a light pink blush, and hands fidgeting with the straps hanging down from his backpack. 

He was still processing that he had run into  _ the _ Victor Nikiforov, genius painter known for some of the most moving paintings ever made on campus. He had been a fan of Victor ever since his name started going around a few years ago. Yuuri kept up to date with all things “V. Nikiforov”; he knew that Victor started painting at age ten and was recognized for his gift after his rudimentary watercolors were entered in a local youth contest. At age 16, Victor had already been accepted into London’s top arts college. He studied there for two years before leaving at 18 and nearly disappearing from the art scene. For four years nobody knew where Victor had gone or what he was doing. The official story, released by his family, was that Victor had left to travel the world looking for inspiration, but the rumor that took hold was that he had quit and wasn’t coming back. Suddenly news broke that at 22, famous V. Nikiforov had enrolled in art college in the states, reemerging as a painter with breathtaking new work.

“Nice to meet you, Yuuri. I’m Victor, also a third year! I can’t believe I haven’t seen you around yet. What program are you in?” The way Victor spoke stood out to Yuuri. He had always assumed Victor to be a poised yet  reserved person, yet here he was, a sparkle in his eyes and a smile on his lips: a completely different person. 

“Dance, specifically ballet. I spend most of my time in the studio practicing, so that’s probably why.” Yuuri folded his arms across his midsection, the cold starting to set in. He wished he had thought to put a warmer coat in with his gear before leaving the apartment. He would’ve if he knew he’d be talking to Victor today.

“Wow! That sounds beautiful, Yuuri. If you don’t mind, I’d love to come watch you practice sometime. I’m in the arts program for painting and it would be an honor to paint you.” Victor backpedaled as Yuuri’s face flushed red. “That is, of course, if it’s okay with you.” He rubbed the back of his neck anxiously, casting his gaze towards their feet. Victor’s shift in gaze caused him to notice the way Yuuri was holding himself, nearly shaking from what he hoped was the cold and not his proposition.

He quickly removed his coat, exposing his cashmere sweater layered over a long sleeve button up with the cuffs turned up over the sweater’s sleeves. Victor draped the coat over Yuuri’s shoulders, pulling it mostly together in the front while still leaving Yuuri enough room to move his arms. “There, much better.”

“Th-thank you, that is much better.” Yuuri smiled, still shaking from the cold but the coat helped immensely. He pulled the front panels of the coat tighter to his frame, hoping to trap more of his body heat inside. The fabric was already warm from Victor, and it had the faint smell of citrus and vanilla from Victor’s cologne lingering around the collar. Yuuri liked knowing that Victor smelled like the way he smiled: sweet and full of life.  


	2. CHAPTER 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! It was brought to my attention that this chapter has been posting funky (thank you for letting me know!) I messed around with it so hopefully everything is okay now.

Victor knew this would happen. He just  _ knew _ that Yuri would pick the most expensive restaurants he could find for the week of lunches Victor owed him. The two were nearing the end of their third out of five expensive lunches this week, and Victor’s wallet was starting to show it. It hadn’t been bad enough to cause him to worry; Victor had made a substantial amount of money from his paintings during the years he spent away from the art scene. Still, the bill he was handed caused him to grimace. Yuri had ordered  _ a lot  _ of food these past three days, and he showed no signs of stopping. Victor knew Yuri would take the rest of his meals home to eat for dinners when the younger boy didn’t feel like cooking, or on weekends when he was too busy to buy groceries, so he felt no need to mention the subject and placed his card on the bill tray.

He glanced around the room, noting the sleek designs. Everything complied with a color palette of black, chocolate brown, and two complementing shades of blue. The main dining room was separated in the middle by a floor to ceiling silent waterfall with its own lighting system. Track lighting snaked around the ceiling, giving enough light to converse, but not so much to be overwhelming. The whole scene had such a romantic potential, and Victor couldn’t help but fantasize bringing Yuuri here. His head filled with images of the two of them laughing together, sitting across from each other, and holding hands on the table as they told each other stories. 

Needless to say, Victor was smitten. 

Victor hadn’t fully realized how much he was zoning out until the sound of an approaching motorcycle caused him to jump slightly in his seat. Yuri obviously noticed by the way he rolled his eyes in disapproval. The young man outside walked to the door and entered, a helmet tucked under his arm. His hair was slightly tousled from the helmet causing strands to fall on his face, but not enough to cover his eyes or appear disheveled. He exchanged words with the hostess before she smiled, nodded, and point towards Victor and Yuri. He thanked her before making his way to the table near the back of the main room, unbeknownst to Victor and Yuri. 

“Otabek, nice to see you. Here for Yuri, I’m guessing?” Victor stood, shaking hands with him. 

“Nice to see you too.” Otabek set the helmet on the table’s edge before resting a hand on Yuri’s shoulder in a small gesture of affection, turning slightly to better face him. “Yura, are you ready to go?” 

“Otabek!” Yuri stood from his chair with a smile even Victor didn’t get to see often. Yuri wrapped his arms around Otabek’s middle, drawing him in for an embrace. He loved hugging Otabek because he always smelled like warm leather mixed with pine and the faintest hint of motor grease. Otabek hugged Yuri back, drawing him in closer before pulling back just enough to place his hand under Yuri’s chin, guiding his gaze up before pressing a slow and passionate kiss on the younger boys lips. 

“Here, Котенка , I brought your helmet.” Otabek handed Yuri the predominately black and red leopard print helmet he had set on the table earlier before taking Yuri’s hand, lacing their fingers together as they walked out.

Victor followed shortly behind them after taking a moment to push in their chairs and sign the check, making sure to leave a hefty tip in cash tucked under the bill tray. He watched as Yuri mounted the back of Otabek’s motorcycle, holding onto his boyfriend’s middle as the two pulled off down the street. Victor had his and Yurio’s to-go boxes stacked neatly in a paper bag that swung gently with the rhythm of his steps. Victor usually took the leftovers back to his place when Otabek picked Yurio up on the motorcycle. He didn’t mind, honestly, it was another way the two had to spend a bit of time together.

Each shop building on Victor’s walk shared a wall with its neighbor to create a continuous line separating the open skies from the hustle below on both sides of the street. Though the buildings tended to be more historic in appearance, many of the stores were high-end chains flaunting pricey merchandise in grandiose window displays. This part of town had gained a lot of attention as more big names moved to the area, converting the dirty walkways between buildings into trendy patios and sitting spaces for coffee dates and shopping breaks. 

Victor loved to window shop, especially around the upscale parts of downtown. With such a diversity of stores there was always something new to see, and this week of lunch outings was enabling him to fully indulge. His thoughts drifted back to Yuuri. Did Yuuri like to window shop? Victor could ask Yuuri to come with him sometime, and they could get coffee and get to know each other while trying on silly outfits in his favorite stores. Thinking about his potential coffee date with Yuuri had him craving a coffee from the little shop down the street he frequented. There were tons of coffee shops in the area, but this one was smaller, more intimate, and had a cozy outdoor seating area decorated with string lights and seat cushions. 

He had nearly reached the coffee shop when something caught his eye. Victor stopped abruptly in front of a small cafe. The exterior wall was full length windows, and inside he saw clusters of people seated around five round tables with two to four chairs around each one. On the back wall was a large menu board behind a counter and display case housing what appeared to be fresh pastries. Despite all this, Victor noticed a very familiar figure stacking scones into the display. Before he could stop himself, his feet carried him inside, right to the register. 

A soothing voice greeted him from behind the counter causing his heart to speed up: Yuuri.

* * *

 

A painfully loud alarm blared in Yuuri’s ears, startling him from his sleep and forcing him to sit up just enough to  _ make it stop _ . He dropped a hand on his phone, hoping to somehow hit the snooze button on his first try  _ and _ without his glasses. 

Shit, Yuuri thought, the noise hadn't stopped. He sat up fully, swinging his feet over the side of the bed and pushing his feet into his slippers. Yuuri rubbed his eyes before putting his glasses on to finally make the offending alarm stop. The time widget read 7:30 AM, meaning Yuuri had an hour and a half to get to work. 

He performed his morning routine of light stretching, showering, and dressing in near slow motion, the sleep grogginess having not worn off yet. 

“Yuuri, are you up? Do you want food? I'm making omelets,” Phichit yelled from the mini kitchen. How Phichit was able to wake up, prepare for the day, have breakfast ready, and do it all with a cheerful disposition baffled him. 

Yuuri checked his phone for the time. He had thirty-five minutes to get to work and he knew he would need every minute. The cafe wasn’t that far, walking distance for someone with more time really. But Yuuri had to catch the bus, and even though it should only take fifteen minutes, the traffic would slow him down significantly. Between the over-abundant one way streets and the constant flow of pedestrians, getting around town was a big ordeal. 

“Thank you, and usually yes, but I have to catch the bus or I’ll be late.” Yuuri made his way towards the door as he pocketed the necessities: phone, wallet, keys, etc. “I’ll see you after work, yeah? We can have that movie night we keep putting off.” 

“Absolutely! But only if we start with  _ The King and the Skater _ .”

Yuuri smiled, “Of course, I’ll text you when I leave work.” 

“Okay, see you!” Phichit ducked back into the kitchen to finish his breakfast as Yuuri closed the front door behind him on the way out. It only took Yuuri about two minutes to reach the bus stop, giving him time to sit and mentally prepare for a busy day. 

The bus slowed to a stop and the doors opened with a whoosh of air. Yuuri stepped on, dropped his quarters in the fee box, and took a seat next to a window. He liked to watch as the world seemed to zip by, the sights all blending into one another the more speed the bus picked up. These ride were his moment of peacefulness before the chaotic work shifts he’d come to expect. The minutes passed, some spent sitting at lights while others were spent sitting in morning traffic. Finally, the bus pulled to the curb at Yuuri’s stop. He thanked the driver and exited, walking down the block to the cafe.

***

Yuuri’s work day, once again, was proving to be a hectic one. The lunch rush was just about finished, luckily. Yuuri wasn’t sure he could keep up with a bigger crowd without the help of another co-worker. When he saw a break in foot traffic, Yuuri hustled to the kitchen for more pastries. The display counter had been nearly wiped out after the rush, and he didn’t want people turning away thinking the cafe was closing quite yet. Yuuri carried two trays of baked goods at a time and set them on the empty counter top next to the register. He took the tongs from the display area and began restocking, one pastry at a time. 

_ Sching. _

The notorious sound of the main door. 

“Hi, welcome, I’ll be right with you,” Yuuri called from behind the now nearly full display. He quickly placed the last scones on their stack, returned the tongs to their spot, and turned back to the register. “Sorry about the wait! What can I get for y-Victor?”

* * *

 

“Hi Yuuri.” Victor’s voice was low and gentle, almost breathy, like he was at a loss for words. 

Yuuri was too surprised to come up with a decent reply. He was much more interested in just looking at Victor. His usually styled hair was a mess from the wind outside, but the way the loose strands rested over part of his face was breathtaking. His cheeks were dusted a soft pink, bringing out the rich blue of his eyes, and his smile was radiant.

The two stood, eyes locked, each with their own giddy expressions.

Yuuri was the first to look away, momentarily shifting his gaze to his feet. “What can I get for you?”

Victor hummed in contemplation, he hadn’t planned on eating again so soon, and he felt a bit awkward still holding his lunch take out. “ I’ll try whatever your favorite is, Yuuri.” 

“Then I’ll get you one raspberry croissant with light icing.” Yuuri punched in the order and took the cash Victor handed him. He then picked up two small sheets of serving paper in one hand and lifted the order from the display with his other. He put the pastry in the papers, folding them up to create a little pocket and passed it over to Victor. 

Victor, who he still couldn’t believe was actually here.

Victor held the pastry up to his nose to fully appreciate the rich sweetness. “Thank you, Yuuri. This looks, and smells, absolutely delicious.”  

“Hey Victor, I’m closing up the cafe, if you want to stay and chat before you have to go?” Yuuri had gathered a broom and a damp rag from the tiny back room. He walked to the tables closest to the front door, wiping down the first table and the seats of the chairs.

Victor’s gaze followed Yuuri’s movements around the room. Even while cleaning, Yuuri’s movements flowed gracefully. “I’d like that, but only if you’ll let me accompany you home.” Victor leaned against the counter, out of Yuuri’s way. 

“Oh thank you but it’s not that far I -”

“Yuuri, please, I insist.”  

“Then I guess I’ll have to take you up on the offer.” 

A brief, palpable silence surrounded them. It was the silence of two souls that desperately wanted to connect but couldn’t, not yet.

Victor was the first to speak. “I noticed the cloud cover coming in this morning, hopefully the rain will hold off for a bit longer.” He ran a nervous hand through his hair, tousling the disheveled strands even further.

“Yeah, I saw that. It seems a bit early in the season but you never can be sure around here.” Yuuri tossed the filthy rag on the floor of the back room and exchanged it for the broom. He started behind the counter to work his way towards the door. From behind the counter, he caught a whiff of Victor’s cologne and realized how much he had missed it. 

“I almost forgot to ask, how was the pastry?”

Victor made a half turn to better face Yuuri. “Absolutely delicious, my compliments to the baker. Say Yuuri, how long have you worked here?

“Since last year. My roommate Phichit worked here before he took his photography internship, and when he left he put in a good word for me.” Yuuri had worked his way to the middle of the cafe, sweeping up piles into a dustpan and emptying the dirt into a trashcan. 

Victor nodded, “I bet it’s nice working here. I don’t know how you refrain from snacking all day with food this good.”

“Ha, yes well, it can get a bit pricy after a few too many.”  Yuuri had made his way to the front door, where he dumped his last dustpan in the plastic can and tied off the trash bag. He pulled the bag free, setting off to the side while he gathered his belongings and locked the front door. “Ready to go, Victor? We can leave out the back entrance so I can toss this in the bin.” Yuuri gestured to the large trash bag on the floor. 

“Yeah, here, let me get the doors for you.” Victor dashed ahead of Yuuri, opening both the back room door and the rear exit. He waited for Yuuri to heave the trash into the large metal bin then lock the door. 

The two kept the small talk up as they walked to the main street to start their route. Victor couldn’t help but glance at the sky every now and then. It had darkened quite a bit, and the temperature had drop just enough to warrant a shiver. 

And then it happened. The first drop fell from the sky, landing directly on Victor’s cheek. His hand automatically reached up to feel the damp spot on his face as he desperately hoped he had imagined it. Yuuri must have felt one too, noted by the disgruntled expression he adopted shortly after.

“Ugh, great. The one day I don’t grab an umbrella.” Yuuri frowned. It wasn’t that he hated rain, per se, he just  _ really _ hated getting wet. 

“Here Yuuri, I have an umbrella.” Victor fumbled in his coat pocket for his compact umbrella. He opened it above both Yuuri and himself, causing them to inch closer to avoid having any limbs outside the canvas’ radius. They stopped momentarily at the end of the block where a red street light glowed in the rain, casting a pinkish hue over the slick street. Neither of them had said another word, the only sounds coming from passing cars and the symphony of rain bouncing off the different materials around. Victor quickly pressed the street crossing button for the diagonal crosswalk. The cars coming from both directions began to slow to a halt as the glow on the pavement shifted from green, to yellow, then to red. The crossing signal change from the dull shape of a hand to the figure of a walking man, and the automated voice from the signal button announced that it was now safe to cross.

Yuuri took the lead, practically running across the mosaic of tiles in the center of the intersection. Victor followed behind at a slower pace, umbrella pulled close to his body to avoid the drops being whipped around in the breeze. 

_ They had almost finished crossing when Yuuri’s sneakers squeaked as he lost traction on the wet tiles.  _

Victor dropped his food bag and umbrella, lunging forward to catch Yuuri by wrapping his arms around the younger man’s middle. Cars were honking, his things lay damaged in the street, and both men were thoroughly soaked.

Victor helped Yuuri back on his feet before collecting his now soaked things. Yuuri was already standing under the nearest awning, arms crossed over his middle to save what body heat he had left. Victor dumped his items in a trash can; they were too wet and crushed to save so no point in lugging them back in the downpour. He joined Yuuri in the mostly dry spot he had found.

“Are you okay, Yuuri?” They stood parallel, both looking forward toward the offending crosswalk.

Yuuri side eyed Victor. He knew what Victor meant by okay, and yes, he was. But he was too worked up about being soaked  _ and _ chilled to the bone to give the sweet, polite answer Victor most likely expected. Yuuri’s clothes felt like cling wrap on his whole body, and he couldn’t see a thing with all the moisture on his glasses. He snuck a quick glance at Victor before answering.  His clothing was hanging off his body in unflattering angles, and he was covered in dirty splotches from the shuffle. He must have been wearing some sort of eye makeup because Yuuri could see a faint smudge around the bottom of each eye. Victor’s hair was a  _ mess _ too. It was parted in several spots with numerous tangles were easily identifiable. As a whole, Victor looked like he had been dragged behind a bus.

“Regarding the fall, yes. I’m fine. Honestly though, I  _ hate _ being out in the rain. My clothes feel awful and I’m freezing. Also, not to be a total asshole, but you look like you just crawled out from under a bridge.”

Victor furrowed his brow in frustration and pulled his phone from his pocket and checked his reflection on the dark screen. “You’re right, I do look atrocious,” Victor huffed. 

He paused, planning what he could say next. Victor knew they were both on edge, and he didn’t want to make things worse than they were already turning out to be.

“My apartment is just around the corner and down two blocks. If you want to come over, I can give you a change of clothes and dry the one’s you have on. I know you probably want to get home, but the offer stands.” Victor turned towards Yuuri for the first time since the incident. Yuuri had released the tension in his shoulders, and his facial features seemed softer.

“Thank you, that sounds like a good idea. Do you mind if I call Phichit to let him know? I forgot to let him know I was headed back and he’s probably worried.”

“Oh, yeah, go ahead. Would you like some privacy? I can step over there.” Victor pointed to the space under the next awning over. 

“Yes, thank you. I promise I’ll be quick.” Yuuri took his phone from his pocket and unlocked it as Victor stepped aside. Yuuri opened the message app, pressed on Phichit’s name, and held the phone to his ear. 

“Yuuri? Are you okay? What took you so long? I was getting really worried that something had happened.” 

“Yes, I am. Sorry I didn't call sooner, Victor showed up at the cafe around closing and asked if he could walk me home. We got caught in the downpour so now I’m going to Victor’s apartment to clean up a bit.”

“Wow! I’d say rain check on movie night but it’s raining now.” 

“I promise to make it up to you soon. See you later okay?”

“Okay! See you soon, Yuuri.” Phichit ended the call and Yuuri locked his phone before slipping it back into his pocket. He turned to Victor, who had been leaning against to side of a building. His hair looked like it had been pushed back away from his eyes and the eye makeup had been wiped away. Yuuri realized that this was the Victor he liked the most. This was the honest Victor, who looked frustrated and upset, tired and filthy. 

“Ready Victor?”


	3. CHAPTER 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to take a moment to thank the gracious [shortprints](https://shortprints.tumblr.com/) for the art they did! 
> 
> I tried to add it to the chapter below so hopefully that worked, you can also check it out [on this post!](http://voidglasses.tumblr.com/post/164817070939/paint-your-heart-on-your-sleeve-a-yoi-fanfic)
> 
> Thank you all for reading, and I promise to keep updating with more lovesick goodness!

Victor’s couch was incredibly comfortable. Yuuri had settled into one corner, opposite Victor, covered by a large, fluffy blanket and sipping on a mug of tea. He was wearing one of Victor’s older sweaters and a pair of his flannel pajama bottoms. Something about being swaddled in Victor’s clothing was oddly comforting to Yuuri; the two had only just started to see who the other was. Although being here like this, with  _ Victor, _ was incredibly unusual, the feeling it gave Yuuri wasn’t unwelcome. Yuuri pondered what exactly it was that he was feeling. He wanted to call it happiness, but there was something lying beneath the surface that made him question the line between just happiness and something more. 

Yuuri’s brain started to feel foggy. There were too many thoughts and feelings to sort through, and Yuuri didn’t have the energy to dedicate to the daunting task tonight.

“Yuuri, I’ll be right back. I’m going to go put your clothes in the dryer, okay?” Victor stood, walking down a hallway from the living room to the laundry nook. 

Yuuri nodded his approval. Victor had put on some re-run of a Netflix show after starting Yuuri's laundry, and the two had been exchanging casual comments and some more small talk during the unimportant scenes. 

_ Well, they were, until Yuuri started spacing out, lost in his own confusing mess of thoughts and emotions.  _

When Victor returned, he sat in the middle of the couch, notably closer to Yuuri. He took the remote and paused the episode then turned to Yuuri.

“Yuuri, can I ask you a question?”

Yuuri’s eyes widened as his anxiety began to well in his stomach. He had never been a fan of spontaneous questions. “O-okay, sure.” Yuuri tightened his grip around his mug of tea, trying to will his anxiety down before it could take root.

“What were you thinking about earlier? You looked very deep in thought during that last episode.” 

Yuuri gulped. He didn’t think Victor had noticed. Yuuri’s face turned red, embarrassment and anxiety mixing underneath the surface. He wasn’t sure how to respond, or even if he wanted to respond at all. Yuuri’s eyes were locked on his hands, still firmly clasped around his now cold tea. He tried to ground himself there, tried to subdue the tidal wave of panic washing over him, threatening to drown-

Two hands had taken the mug from Yuuri and set it on the coffee table. The same two hands were now holding Yuuri’s, thumbs gently massaging Yuuri’s palms. 

_ These were Victor’s hands. Victor was trying to comfort him. _

“Yuuri? You’re a bit pale, are you okay?” He gave Yuuri’s hands a light squeeze, wishing he could do more to bring the life back to Yuuri’s eyes. 

_ A single tear rolled down Yuuri’s cheek, leaving a glistening trail over the soft skin of his cheek. _

Yuuri broke. Everything was was too much. The first tear had fallen, acting like the first drop of a broken dam tearing past the cracks and overwhelming its efforts. The tears began flowing erratically down his face in sobbing bursts. Yuuri choked on his breath in gasps as he struggled to keep air in his lungs. His eyes were red and puffy from the tears he still couldn’t control, and the collar of the borrowed sweater had blotches from runaway tears dripping down the slope of his neck. 

Yuuri was not a beautiful crier, not by a long shot, and Victor wasn’t sure what to do next. He hadn’t expect this at all, and the methods of consoling someone were not his most developed skills. Victor tugged at the end of his own sleeve, bunching the fabric around his hand. He lifted a covered knuckled and dabbed at the tears lingering around Yuuri’s eyes. 

Victor watched silently as Yuuri desperately worked to recover himself, afraid to do more than hold Yuuri’s hands in his own. Victor didn’t have the words he thought Yuuri needed to hear and he feared any attempts he made would only make things worse.

Yuuri’s breathing started to slow, the sobbing decreasing as he regained control over his body. 

“I’m sorry, Victor.” 

“I don’t understand. What’s on your mind, Yuuri?” Victor’s voice was tense yet dripping with concern. 

Yuuri sniffled before opening his mouth to speak, only to find himself unable to. How to describe something as complicated as his emotions to someone so new to him. It was only recently that he found Victor within arm’s reach and not just a signature on canvas. He took a deep breath, carefully selecting the words he needed.

“I’m sorry for being a burden, and for breaking down in your living room,” Yuuri paused, giving the oversized sweater a once over, “and for crying all over your clothes.” 

“You’re not a burden, Yuuri. I’m glad to get to know you better, no matter the circumstances.” Victor gave Yuuri’s hands a squeeze. The simple action combined with Victor’s words made Yuuri look up, catching the deep blue of Victor’s eyes once again. Those blue eyes were screaming out for something, if only Yuuri knew what it was.

Yuuri’s phone lit up next to him with a text notification.

**_Phichit_ ** _ : Hey Yuuri!! Hope everything is alright. It’s getting late so I’m going to head to bed, but I’ll leave the lights on. I’ll have my volume up so call me if anything happens, okay? Goodnight! ♡♡♡ _

Yuuri glanced at the screen, taking a moment to read the text and check the time. It was nearing eleven at night, no wonder Phichit was calling it a night. 

“Is that your roommate?” 

“Oh, yeah, he’s just letting me know that he’s going to sleep but the lights will be on when I get back.” Yuuri hesitated before continuing. “Speaking of going home, it is rather late, and I have dance in the morning. I should probably head back and get some sleep.” Yuuri’s eyes darted away. It wasn’t that he  _ wanted _ to leave, but he knew Victor must be tired himself and thought it rude to extend his impromptu visit. 

“Only if you let me walk you home.”

“Thank you, but I couldn’t ask that of you, especially after everything you’ve already done and-”

“Yuuri, I  _ want _ to.” Victor smiled, the light returning to his eyes at the simple thought of getting just a little more time with Yuuri. “I’ll go get your clothes from the dryer and some umbrellas. Wouldn’t want to repeat that.” He stood, exiting the room with a playful wink.

Yuuri stood, making his way over to his sneakers by the door. He kneeled down to lace them up, then waited patiently by the door for Victor. 

When Victor returned, he had one large umbrella tucked under his left arm and Yuuri’s clothes neatly folded and stacked in a bag that hung off his right. “Ready Yuuri? I hope you don’t mind that I folded your clothes. I thought it would be more practical for you to just wear mine home and return them later.”

“Are you sure?” Yuuri wrinkled his eyebrows in confusion. Victor can’t be serious, he thought.

“Of course!” Victor gave the bag a gentle swing for emphasis, “These are already clean, it would be silly to get them dirty again.”

Yuuri nodded, too surprised and exhausted to argue. 

Victor nodded with a smile in return. He open the door, exposing them to the chilled air and now light rain. Once under the awning, he reached behind them to lock the door before opening the umbrella above their heads. The two began the short walk to Yuuri’s building. They moved together without words, the sound of rain off the shared umbrella and the tiny splashes of their synchronized steps saying more than words could in the moment. They felt no need to speak, no need to disturb the peace surrounding them. The soft glow of the moon reflected in each drop, lighting their way between the streetlights. In that moment, it seemed like they had the world all to themselves. 

“It’s this next awning, the red one.” Yuuri broke the trance to signal his stop ahead. Upon reaching their destination Victor gestured for Yuuri to step under the covering first, following behind after closing the umbrella. 

“Thank you for walking with me, it was nice.” Yuuri smiled, hand fidgeting together with the sleeves of the sweater he still wore. 

“Thank you for letting me, Yuuri.”

A faint pink blush blossomed over Yuuri’s cheeks. He pushed the lobby door open, turning partially to Victor. “Goodnight Victor.” He pushed the door open further, making his way inside.

A question burned at Victor’s throat. He knew if he ignored it he’d regret the decision.

“Wait Yuuri-” Victor called out to the man about to close the door.

“Yeah?”

_ Deep breath Victor, no big deal, okay? _ “Yuuri, I was wondering if maybe you would like to go on a date with me sometime this week? I really enjoyed our evening together and I’d to get to know you more, if that’s alright with you.” 

“I’d like that.” Yuuri bit his lower lip, his blush now more noticeable. 

Victor exhaled a sigh of relief as a smiled curled on his lips. “I’m glad.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your support!! It means so much to know people are enjoying this work so far!
> 
> I look forward to bringing you more chapters!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading! You can find me [here on tumblr](http://voidglasses.tumblr.com/)


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